


Dies Irae: Graves

by Jen Hall (Greenlady)



Series: Dies Irae [1]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-10
Updated: 2010-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-12 14:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenlady/pseuds/Jen%20Hall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starsky and Hutch are Demon Hunters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dies Irae: Graves

Dies Irae: Graves

 

********************

Quaerens me sedisti lassus…  
tantus labor non sit cassus.

You searched for me long and hard…  
May your labour be not in vain.

**********************************

Detective Sergeant David Starsky opened his eyes cautiously, and looked around. Damn everything to Hell, he thought. It didn't work. I'm still alive. Still on this evil plane of existence, at least. What do I have to do, to die? Blow my own head off?

Starsky groaned and sat up. The remains of last night's demon summoning was spread about the apartment. Broken furniture. Guttered candles. A circle of salt. Inside that, a pentagram of salt. Incense and wine.

The corpse of his latest successful demon kill, Furfur. What a mess. But then demons were not known for their neatness, either alive or dead. And since Starsky had been forced to rip this particular demon into several pieces....

Starsky got to his feet, and stumbled into the bathroom. He regarded his own face in the bathroom mirror. You don't look much better than Furfur, he told himself. Of course, Hutch would say you never did, even at your best. Starsky closed his eyes. He could almost see his partner, almost hear his voice as he shook his finger under Starsky's nose.

'Starsky, thou art a shambles. Covered in demon blood and demon gore. Even worse, demon shit. Who knows what is in that, considering their diets? It is not healthy.'

Starsky laughed bitterly. No. Not healthy. Nothing I do these days is healthy. But what's the point of being healthy, when you'd rather be dead? The only reason I haven't blown my own head off, is that....

The phone rang. Starsky sighed, and picked up the bathroom extension. 'Yeah, Cap. Starsky, here,' he said.

'Oh, good,' said Captain Dobey. 'You survived. And you're awake.'

'In a manner of speaking, Captain. I need a shower, and a gallon of coffee, and a bioscan to check for demon viruses, but my heart is still pretending to beat.'

'Well, get to Metro as soon as possible. There are a couple of Feds in my office. They want my best agent, and that's you,' said the Captain.

'I was your best agent,' said Starsky. 'Not any more.'

'Bullshit, Starsky,' the Captain declared. 'You're still the best. All you need is discipline, and to quit messing around with demon summonings after hours. What are you trying to do? Commit suicide?'

'Yeah. What's it to you?'

'For God's sake, Starsky,' said Captain Dobey. 'Hutch wouldn't want that, and you know it.'

'Never mind what Hutch would or wouldn't want, Captain. That's my business. Tell the Damned Feds I'll be in to work when I'm good and ready.'

Starsky hung up the phone, and turned on the shower. Dobey was right. Hutch wouldn't want him to commit suicide, which was why Starsky hadn't blown his brains out. They would be together again someday, which was why Starsky clung to life on this plane of existence. But it was also why he took such chances with demon killing. It was the best way to ensure his spirit found Hutch's spirit. Hutch had died, killing a demon.

Trying to kill a demon, Starsky amended.

************************

Metro was a beehive of activity, of course. It was October, and in a few weeks, it would be Samhain. The doors between the Worlds would open, and all manner of things, both good and evil, would be on the move. The grass was always greener on the other side of the hill. Or deader. Whichever was your preference, thought Starsky.

Patrol Officers stood about in groups, exchanging information about the most dangerous demons, and which gates to the next worlds they were likely to use. When they saw Starsky coming, they fell silent, and crossed themselves to be on the safe side. Starsky knew many of the younger officers thought he was half demon himself.

'It is thy Damned temper,' Hutch told him one day. 'Thine eyes flash, and smoke pours from thine ears.'

'Sure it does,' said Starsky. 'And then there's my other demon characteristic. But the younger officers don't get to see that. Not since I stopped showering with them. That's for your eyes only.'

'What art thou talking about, Starsk? Thine tail?'

'Oh, yes. Mine tail belongs to you, Hutch. But I was talking about this. It doth belong to thee.' Starsky had shown Hutch what he meant. It took some time, but Hutch finally agreed it was possessed of demonic proportions, and talents.

Starsky flung open the door to Dobey's office.

'Don't you ever knock, Detective?' asked his captain.

'I'm out of practice, Captain Dobey,' Starsky told him. 'No one knocks in Hell. So these are the Feds? Don't look very scary to me.'

'We're not supposed to look scary, Detective,' said one of the Feds. Female. Tiny and rather cute. Red hair. That figured. Probably a Witch. Her partner was tall and dark. He looked Jewish, but that didn't win him any points with Starsky. He was still a Fed.

'And why not? Why shouldn't you look scary?' Starsky asked.

'We're undercover,' said the man.

Starsky snorted, eyeing the agent's elegant Armani suit. The Feds must pay better than he'd thought. 'What are you undercover as?' he asked. 'A gigolo?'

The female Fed howled with laughter. Her partner smiled wryly.

'Starsky!' Dobey roared.

'Yes, Cap?' Starsky asked, innocently.

'Never mind, Captain,' said the male Fed. 'We wanted a Demon Hunter with spirit. And it looks like we found our man.'

'I hope you're speaking metaphorically,' said Starsky. 'Just what sort of job did you have in mind? I'm no gigolo. And don't the Feds have their own Demon Hunters?'

The male Fed smiled -- or smirked, rather. 'They're busy,' he said. 'Your captain tells me you're a crack Hunter.'

Starsky shrugged, with mock humility. 'We're a dollar a dozen,' he said. 'What demon do you want me to hunt?'

'No one important,' said the female Fed. 'You ever heard of Sydonay?'

Starsky picked up a chair, and threw it across the room. 'Damn you, Dobey,' he roared. 'Did you put them up to this?'

'No!' said the captain. 'No, no. Starsky, I had no idea. They wouldn't tell me who they were after.'

'Is there a problem?' drawled the male Fed. He of the elegant suits.

'Yes,' Starsky hissed, right up in his face. 'Sydonay killed my partner. That's the problem.'

'And now you're scared?' the Fed asked.

Starsky hit him, and he fell down. His little red haired partner pulled her gun, and aimed it at Starsky's head. 'Go ahead, Lady,' he told her. 'You'd be doing me a favour.'

The female Fed put her gun away, and helped her partner to his feet. It seemed she didn't want to do Starsky any favours.

'That's some left hook you've got,' the male Fed commented.

'Thanks,' said Starsky 'You wanna see my right hook?'

'No,' said the Fed. 'I apologize for insulting your manhood. Feel better?'

'Like a billion bucks,' said Starsky. 'I'm not afraid of Sydonay. I'd like to rip him into tiny pieces, and feed them to you. But if he kills me, that's fine too. I just don't like to hear his name mentioned in my presence. That's all.'

'Well, if we're hunting him, we'll have to mention his name once in a while. You going to hit me every time?'

'No,' said Starsky. 'Once is enough. I've been hunting him for months now, and you're only the third asshole I've punched. Why are you in on the act? What do you care about a so-called minor demon?'

'He might not be minor any longer,' said the red haired Witch. 'We think he's making a move to take over our World.'

'Ah!' said Starsky. 'And we're all that stands between this World and Eternal Darkness? Nice.'

'Something like that,' said the male Fed. 'You in?'

'Oh sure. Why not?' asked Starsky. 'I've got nothing better to do with my time.'

 

************************

Starsky lay down on Hutch's grave, and pulled the blanket around his shoulders. It was late, and the cemetery was closed, but the guards on duty ignored his presence. No one really wanted to mess with a Demon Hunter. Most had more than one demon tamed and bound to their service. Despite his odd sleeping habits, Starsky was quiet and well behaved, and didn't touch the other graves.

He leaned his head against the gravestone, and traced Hutch's name, and the words Beloved Friend. He remembered the first time he'd seen them, carved into the marble. His friends had finally given into his demands to see Hutch's grave. Until that moment, something inside of him had refused to believe his lover was truly dead. Even now, he wanted to dig down into the earth to see if the coffin was empty, or held Hutch's bones.

Dobey and Huggy had seen the body. They would never lie to him on such a matter. But Starsky wished he'd seen the body himself. He was still troubled by nightmares, that Hutch would awake in his grave, and be unable to dig himself out.

'Hutch was dead, Starsky,' Huggy told him. 'Dead, dead, dead. No doubt about it. You saw the demon kill him yourself, and you nearly died, too.'

'I wish I had,' said Starsky.

'Well, you didn't get your wish. You win some, you lose some. It must be that you're meant to live a little longer, for some reason.'

'What reason, Huggy? I can't think of one.'

'How about to bug me? To drive Dobey mad?'

'That's not enough, Huggy,' said Starsky.

'Then find something to live for that is enough,' said his old friend. 'Killing demons, maybe?'

'I've been killing demons for years,' said Starsky.

'Well, kill some more. There's always more, man.'

'I know,' said Starsky.

There are always more demons, my darling, he thought. I'd like to kill the one who took you down. But it won't bring you back to me. Nothing will. I must join you, sooner or later. Nights like this, I wish it was sooner.

A cold wind howled through the trees that ringed the cemetery. It tore up the dead leaves, and sent them tumbling amidst the headstones. Starsky snuggled closer to Hutch's own headstone. It's all right, he whispered. I'm warm enough, and so are you.

He imagined Hutch's answer if he could truly hear Starsky. 'Thou art an idiot, Starsk. Of course I'm warm enough, I'm six feet underground. Thine hands will freeze off, one of these nights, to say nothing of thy balls. What art thou thinking of? Thou hast a warm bed at home. Go to it!'

'My bed isn't warm, Hutch,' he whispered. 'Not anymore. And I can't sleep without you near. Be quiet and listen. The Feds think the demon who killed you...'

'Sydonay?' asked Hutch.

'The very one. The Feds think he's making a move to take over this plane of existence. We're going after him, and I might die. Isn't that wonderful?'

'Wonderful is not the word that I would use to describe thy death, my love,' said Hutch.

'But thou art... you're dead, Hutch. So I must die to join you. I must join you soon, or I will go mad.'

'Starsky, thou art already mad. If thou wishest to join me, do so now. Come!'

'Hutch?' Starsky sat up, suddenly and looked around. Almost he thought he really heard his lover calling. But Hutch would never do that, never ask Starsky to kill himself. It was against everything he believed in. 'Hutch,' Starsky continued. 'You know I can't do that yet. I must take down the demon who took you from me. I can't come to you tonight. But I'm near.'

'Yes,' Hutch whispered in his heart. 'Thou art near, Beloved. Thou art near. Sleep, and gather thy strength for the battle.'

Ah. This was the real Hutch. His own Hutch. Not the evil desire lurking in his own heart. Starsky nestled even closer to the grave marker that bore Hutch's name, and slept.

 

******************

'You look terrible, Starsky.'

'Thanks, Cap. So do you.'

'What did you do? Sleep in your clothes all night?'

'Yes. Can we get on with it? I have all my notes, and Hutch's notes, of our dealings with... that demon.'

'Sydonay. I put the researchers to work. They plotted all references to his appearances locally the last few decades. See? His activities have definitely increased.'

'Yes,' said Starsky. He breathed deeply. Hitting everyone who mentioned that demon's name would achieve nothing, he reminded himself. He should save his energy for killing the monster.

'We have information going back much further,' said the red haired Witch Fed. 'At one time, Sydonay moved about a lot, over the entire World. But lately, he's been concentrating his activities in and around Bay City.'

'There must be a reason,' said her partner, the Gigolo. 'We think perhaps it's the Gates.'

'Other places have Gates,' Starsky pointed out. 'Some places have more Gates. Some places have larger Gates. What's the draw of our Gates?'

'I don't know for certain,' said the Witch Fed. 'If I did, we could do something about it. But perhaps the draw is where the Gates lead to?'

Starsky leaned forward. 'Most of our Gates are mapped,' he said. 'But not all. Some are inaccessible to Demon Hunters, to the Police, and to the Feds.'

'Naturally,' said the Gigolo Fed. 'The underworld Gates are hidden, to say nothing of being heavily guarded by demons.'

'My partner and I were undercover, trying to gather information on some of those Gates. We must have got too close, and alerted Sydonay. He took us by surprise, somehow. Hutch, my partner, was killed, and I was badly injured. Spent months in the hospital. Mapping the underworld Gates is dangerous.'

'But necessary, if they're being used for an invasion,' said the Witch Fed.

'Is that what you think?' asked Starsky. 'That's what Hutch thinks. Thought. That's what Hutch thought. He thought....'

Starsky drew another deep breath. His sleep had been troubled by odd dreams. What would he do, if he couldn't sleep on Hutch's grave, he wondered? But several times, he'd been woken by Hutch's voice, calling him. Hutch had sounded grief-stricken, as if it were Starsky who had died, and Hutch who had been left alone.

'Starsky?' asked Captain Dobey. 'Are you okay?'

'No, Cap. I'm not okay. Hutch thought the demons were planning an invasion through one of the underworld gates. We had no proof, no evidence that could get us the manpower to put them under surveillance, so we were on our own. It got him killed.'

'I know, Starsky. I know how you feel.'

'No, you don't. I'm sorry to sound so disrespectful, but you can't know how I feel. I feel responsible, because I went along with him. If I hadn't....'

'Don't second guess yourself, Detective,' said the Gigolo Fed. 'It's a waste of time.'

'And how would you feel if it happened to you? If your partner died, and you knew you might have stopped it?'

The Gigolo Fed smiled. 'I'd feel the same as you,' he said. 'But this is getting us nowhere. If you and your partner were close to finding the Gate, then you could be that close again. Even closer. Let's go over your notes. The clues must be there. Now, we have the manpower you needed, we can do something about closing the Gate to traffic. Because I think Samhain is the time.'

'Yes,' said Starsky. 'Hutch thought the same.'

'We did a background check on your partner,' said the Witch Fed.

'How dare you!' said Starsky, half rising from his seat in a futile urge to protect his lover from some threat.

'Calm down, Starsky,' said Dobey. 'They have the right. It's routine.'

'I'm sorry. I never liked people questioning his origins, his motives. As if he were a suspect.'

'He was a Traveller, wasn't he?' asked the Gigolo Fed.

'What of it?' asked Starsky.

'I wish I could have met him. He must have had many tales to tell.'

'Oh, yes,' said Starsky. 'Many tales. But he's silent now. Silent as the grave.'

 

*********************

'I'm not sure I like the idea of computers doing police work,' Dobey muttered.

'Don't worry, Cap,' said Starsky. 'There's lots of shit work left for us poor mortals. Like bleeding. And dying.'

'Okay, people,' said the Witch Fed. 'I'm going to run a simulation. See what comes up.'

She'd set up her small, personal computer in Dobey's office. There was a fold-up keyboard, a monitor so thin Starsky imagined he could see through it, and a box. A black box. Interesting. Starsky wondered if she kept her familiar inside. She tapped a key, with a long, red-tipped finger, and the screen lit up, showing the FBI logo with a tiny Fed icon, working at her desk.

'I'm uploading all your data to Central. Let's see what it says.'

They all watched the screen, eagerly. The screen changed, to a map of Bay City, with a myriad of colourful demon icons, indicating recent demon activity. The Witch Fed typed some request into her keyboard. 'I'm asking the computer where it thinks the Gate we're interested in might be,' she said.

Starsky could almost hear Hutch snort with derision. 'Thou art expecting a machine to tell thee how to think, Starsk? Well, mayhaps thou shouldst. Thou art an artless boil-brained jolthead, at times. If thou dost not possess a mind like unto mine, thou must make shift to use what thou hast. Look, thou. The Gate is here.'

Starsky leaned forward, and tapped the screen. 'Five'll get you ten the Gate is here,' he said, indicating Hutch's location, down by the docks.

'What makes you think that?' asked the male Fed. 'Central hasn't finished digesting all the data, yet.'

'Mayhap some of it is stuck in Central's craw,' said Starsky. 'My partner thought the Gate was there. That's good enough for me.'

'Ah,' said the female Fed. 'Your partner was a Traveller, as my partner observed.'

'Yes. He knew a lot about the Gates. And there was more to it than that. At times, if he got close enough to one, and the Gate was large enough, he could sense its location, and sometimes, where it led to.'

'Why wasn't he working for the FBI?' asked the Gigolo Fed. 'We could have used that talent.'

'Yeah. Used it,' said Starsky. 'Used it as in forced him to spend his life searching for Gates, and leading FBI investigators through them. We would have been separated, for one thing. I'm not Fed material. And the FBI wouldn't have trusted a Traveller to work alone. What would the difference have been, between working for you, and working for some demon cartel?'

'Not much, I grant you,' said the Gigolo Fed. 'But wasn't he wasting his talents, hunting demons, and other assorted murderers, for a mere city police force?' The Fed ignored Dobey's glare, at the disparagement of his Force.

'He didn't see it that way,' said Starsky. 'He enjoyed Travelling, in his younger days, but it started to give him headaches. The constant time shifts, I suppose. He was happy, settled down here with me. If he hadn't been, he could have left at any time. Who could have stopped him?'

'No one, that's true. A Traveller can open any Gate. Ah, the data has been digested, I see.' A red arrow lit up the screen, pointing to the location the computer thought held the most likely Gate.

'And Hutch was right,' crowed Starsky. He could hear his lover affirm that of course he was right. Be quiet, you churlish, flap-mouthed codpiece, he thought, and could hear Hutch laugh with delight at the insult.

'What's funny?' asked the female Fed.

'Nothing,' said Starsky. 'Or everything. Now that we have the manpower, and the data to back up Hutch's suspicions, can we raid the joint?'

'I don't know about a raid, Starsky,' Dobey protested. 'Wouldn't that tip off the demons, that we were on to them?'

'Not if we make it look like we were after smugglers,' said Starsky. 'The Gate is in the dock area. Hutch and me were pretending to be investigating possible smugglers. Drugs. Expensive hi-tech equipment. Even white slavery operations. It's all quite true, and made a good cover, until we got too close to the demon's lair.'

'You're on,' said Dobey, after glancing at the Feds, and getting a nod of approval. 'Go for it.'

'Hold on,' said Starsky. 'Let's do this properly,'

'Properly?' asked the Gigolo Fed.

'Yeah, properly. Hutch taught me that when you deal with demons, your intentions must be pure, and everything must be fair and square. Otherwise, they take advantage of every uncrossed T, and undotted i.' Starsky picked up Dobey's phone, and dialled a number from memory.

'Huggy Bear is here. Aren't you glad? Speak to me, my man.'

'Hi, Huggy. I've a question for you,' said Starsky.

'Don't you always,' Huggy almost sang. 'What is the question this time, Starsky?'

'Have you heard of any smuggling operations, down by the docks?'

'You joking, man? There's always smuggling down by the docks.'

'Thanks, Huggy. Catch you later.' Starsky hung up the phone, and looked at Dobey with triumph. 'My informant tells me there's smuggling at the docks, sir. We can get a warrant to search them now, can't we?'

'You're nuts, Starsky,' said Dobey.

'I work hard to get us evidence, and that's all the thanks I get,' said Starsky.

*****************

The Bay City Police Department and the Federal Bureau of Investigation had the place surrounded. Captain Dobey so informed the employees of the Forbes & Co. warehouse, before they busted in the doors. Numerous men and women scurried to come out with their hands up. A CEO type, wearing a designer suit that rivalled the Gigolo Fed's, slithered out to protest the invasion.

'What are you doing, officers?' he asked. 'We're a legitimate business.'

'We have a warrant,' thundered Dobey. 'Based on information that you're engaged in smuggling.'

'Smuggling? Us?' The CEO boggled at the suggestion.

'So we were informed. Are you trying to tell us you're innocent?'

The CEO opened his mouth to do just that, then thought better of the wasted effort. He sighed, instead. 'Listen,' he confided, leaning forward, his face a picture of sincerity and outraged morality. 'It's my boss,' he said. 'The morals of a weasel, and the face to match. But what can you do? You know everyone smuggles.'

'We know,' said Dobey. 'But we're busting you anyway. If you really want to confess, you'll get off lightly.'

'Oh, yeah,' said the CEO, cheerfully. 'I'll confess. I'll confess anything you want. The better the offer, the better the confession.'

'Sounds good to me,' said Dobey. 'Watson, take this gentleman to Metro, and get him the best offer going for confessions. I've got bigger fish to fry.'

'Hey!' said the CEO. 'I'm a big fish. I can tell you all about the time we....' Watson dragged him away, confessing unimaginable things the whole way.

It seemed they would not have to break down any doors after all. Starsky was feeling a bit frustrated, as they strolled peacefully into the warehouse of Forbes & Co. But once inside, a different feeling oppressed him. This is too easy, he imagined Hutch complaining. The warehouse in its entirety gives up without a fight? Its leader confesses on the instant to anything we wish to hear? I am no new-born innocent. There is something smelly here, and it's not only your feet, Starsky.

'Thanks, my darling,' Starsky muttered to himself.

'Is there a problem, Starsky?' Dobey asked him. 'You're talking to yourself a lot lately.'

'It's a habit I've fallen into, sir. But there is a problem. Don't you think it's suspicious, how this place just surrendered without any sort of fight?'

'How could they fight the BCPD and the FBI, Starsky? They're just a importing business.'

'And a nest of smugglers, sir. You'd think they'd at least demand their lawyers.'

'You've got a point there, Detective,' said the Witch Fed. 'We should keep our eyes open, and our ears as well.'

'Hey, Babe,' called the Gigolo Fed, to his partner. 'Look at this!'

'What's up?' asked the redhead.

'This section of the wall. Look at the strange marks on the stones, and on the floor. Doesn't that remind you of....'

The floor in question began to shake, and boxes to slide across it. Starsky's first thought was that it was an earthquake, but that idea was quelled by the roar of anger from overhead. Several large, ugly demons hurled themselves over the balcony above. They all rolled out of the demons' way, and no one was crushed. Starsky recognized Sydonay among them, and he replied with a roar of his own.

'You!' said the demon. 'I thought I killed you, along with your partner. Don't worry. I always fix my mistakes.'

Starsky laughed. 'I'm counting on it,' he said. 'But I'm taking you with me.'

Sydonay stared at Starsky with obvious confusion. 'You want to die?' he asked. 'What mortal wants to die?'

'A mortal who has nothing left to live for,' Starsky answered. 'Except to kill you.'

The other demons were squaring off against the Feds, and Dobey. One of them must have overheard the conversation between Starsky and Sydonay, for he called over to his fellow demon. 'Be careful, Buddy. That's the most dangerous kind of mortal!'

Sydonay didn't appear impressed. 'I'll crush you, like I did the first time,' he said. 'But this time, you won't spring back into shape again.'

Starsky pulled out his weapons, the special knives that were made to cut through demon flesh. 'I'll skin you alive,' he said. 'And feed your meat to my demon servants. I promised I'd do that, before I died, and left them masterless.'

'You have demon slaves?' screamed Sydonay. 'I will eat you myself, before I'll be fed to such low-born filth.'

The demon charged, and Starsky's knives flashed. The demon lost a hand, but Starsky was knocked to the ground. He struggled to his feet in time for the demon's next enraged charge. This time he managed to keep his feet, but Sydonay lost a chunk of flesh from his side.

'This may take all day,' said Starsky. 'But you are demon slave meat.'

Sydonay roared in outrage, and charged once more. One of Starsky's knives pierced the demon's flesh, right over his heart. Sydonay picked Starsky up, and flung him across the warehouse toward the wall. It was the wall that the Feds had been examining, just before the demon attack. Starsky felt the impact, and then the strangest feeling, as if he were going on, straight through the stones.

Darkness, and pinpoints of light, like stars. The oddest, wailing music, like bagpipes, only even less musical, he thought. Perhaps this was death, only it was a death like nothing he had ever read about. What happened to the tunnel, and my loved ones who moved on before me, gathered to welcome me home? What happened to Hutch, holding out his arms to gather me to his bosom?

I'm a man, he imagined Hutch sniggering. I don't have a bosom.

It was Starsky's last thought, before he passed out.

 

**********************

Cold, wet grass under his cheek, and the smell of dark, broken earth in his nostrils. The cheerful chirping of crickets, and the mournful hooting of an owl. The crunching of leaves under his body, as he tried to sit up.

Not exactly his picture of Heaven, he thought. But scarcely Hell, either. It seemed he was alive, still. Damn.

His head ached, and other parts of his body, as well. Perhaps he was getting too old for this demon hunting nonsense. He levered himself into a sitting position, and felt for his knives. Ah. There they were. Feeling safer, he looked around.

That was a mistake, he thought, and quickly closed his eyes again. He counted slowly to ten, and opened them. The same view greeted him. But perhaps greeted was too cheerful a word to use for the view of a cemetery. How did I get from a warehouse in the Bay City docklands, to a graveyard, he asked himself? Did I stumble here after the fight with Sydonay, to die on Hutch's grave? Why would Dobey and the others allow me to do that, unless they are all dead, or unconscious? And then, why would I have abandoned them? I can't remember the end of the fight, just hitting a wall, and nothing, until this.

Starsky shook his head to clear it, and instantly regretted the action. He closed his eyes, and sank back down to the ground. This is useless, he thought. Or, as Hutch would say, bootless. I'll just rest here for a few moments, and gather my strength, then go and find out what happened, exactly. There must be an explanation. I wonder whose grave I'm lying on, for the headstone isn't Hutch's. I know that like the back of my hand.

Curiosity overwhelmed him, and the need to answer at least one riddle. He sat up again, very carefully, and turned toward the stone marker. A ray of moonlight caught the carved letters. That can't be right, he thought. It must be a mistake. For I am sitting here, still breathing. This must be the grave of another David Starsky, Faithful Partner of Kenneth Hutchinson. Yes, there must be many of us in the world. That's a better explanation than that I've gone round the bend.  
He rested his head against his own gravestone, and considered his options.

I might be unconscious, lying on the warehouse floor, or in a hospital somewhere, he thought. I remember having very strange dreams in the hospital, after the last fight with Sydonay. I remember having nightmares of Hutch calling to me, to dig him out of his grave. He was smothering, clawing at the coffin lid, and it was so real.

I might finally be insane, and past all help. That's a fate worse than death, and I hope someone shoots me, if it's the truth.

Or, maybe I'm dead, and this really is my grave, and I'm hanging around waiting for... for what? For Hutch to come and find me? We missed each other, somehow. I'm waiting for Hutch. That's it.

Starsky looked around the cemetery. None of the headstones looked familiar. That was curious. He had purchased the plot next to Hutch's. He should be buried there, and all his friends knew it. Why had they gone against his wishes? In fact, this didn't even look like Hutch's cemetery, at all. There was no ring of trees, for one thing. He could see no lights from the guardhouse. The cemetery seemed deserted, like no cemetery he had ever known. Far too quiet and lonely, he thought, and he started to feel nervous.

He managed to struggle to his feet, and felt for his knives, again. Just in time, for down the gravel path, he could hear footsteps coming his way. Only one set of footsteps, he thought. A man. Walking slowly, but not stealthily. Not hiding his approach. Not afraid, either, he decided, despite the late hour, and the loneliness of the cemetery. Perhaps he was a cemetery guard on his rounds. Perhaps he could answer a few of Starsky's questions, if Starsky asked them skilfully enough. He could learn where he was, at least.

A figure appeared, far down the path. Tall, with light hair. Something in the way the man walked caught Starsky's eye. It was familiar. Too familiar, and Starsky decided he had indeed lost his mind. The man caught sight of Starsky, standing by his grave, and stopped dead in the pathway. Starsky could hear his gasp, in the silent night. They stared at each other, in the bright moonlight.

'Starsky?' the man whispered.

'Hutch?' whispered Starsky, and ran to catch his lover, before he collapsed upon the cold ground.

 

Hutch clung to Starsky as he caught him. He moaned Starsky's name, and trembled in his arms.

'Hush, baby,' said Starsky. 'It's okay. Starsky's here.'

'Starsk?' Hutch breathed. He drew back, and gazed into Starsky's face. His own face was as bright as the moon, shining with a supernal joy, like a child on Christmas morning, who has found the pony he always longed for, waiting under the tree.

'Yeah, it's me, ' said Starsky. 'In the flesh.'

Hutch pulled him closer, and buried his face in Starsky's hair. 'Starsky. I knew you weren't dead,' he said.

'Of course I'm not dead. A little banged up, but still alive. You're not dead, either. I guess I was living for something, after all.'

They leaned against each other, breathing together for a few minutes, until both their heartbeats slowed, and the world stopped spinning about like a child's top. Starsky pulled back a little, and looked at Hutch's face. His lover looked worse than Starsky looked in the mirror any morning these days.

'What have you been doing to yourself?' he asked. 'You look terrible.'

Hutch laughed. 'Oh, living a nightmare,' he said. 'They told me you were dead… but… but Starsky, I saw you. I saw you get shot. And I was there, the other day. I was there when you died. Starsky?'

 

Hutch was shaking again. Tears were running down his face. Starsky pulled his head down, and kissed the tears away. 'Hush!' he said again. 'I'm not dead. It was a bad dream. Feel me. Do I feel cold?'

'No. You feel so warm.'

Starsky kissed all down his face, and then pressed his lips against Hutch's soft mouth. That felt so good, he thought. It's been too long. We need to find somewhere warm, and private, and make up for lost time. Hutch pulled away, and stared at Starsky in surprise.

'What's wrong, Babe?' asked Starsky. 'You still think I'm dead. Let's go home, and I'll prove I'm alive. As alive as you could ever wish for.' He ran his hands down Hutch's back, and slipped his hand under his jacket, to touch his lover's bare skin.

 

Hutch sighed, then laughed a little. 'This is a dream, isn't it? I'll wake up, and you'll be under the cold ground again.'

'No,' said Starsky. 'I promise.' He pulled Hutch back into his arms for another kiss. Hutch's lips felt so innocent, and full of wonder. As if Starsky had never kissed him before. As if this were the first time their lips had ever touched. It's been a while, thought Starsky. But not that long.

He could hear voices, coming toward them. A flashlight searched the path, and lit on them, standing in each other's arms. 'Hey!' a voice called. 'What are you doing there? Oh my God! It's two guys. Perverts! Get out, or we'll call the police.'

Starsky put Hutch away, gently, and turned to face the guards. 'Who are you calling perverts?' he asked. 'My friend is in mourning, and I was comforting him. Is that perversion?'

'Oh, I'm sorry,' said the guard. 'We thought you were homos. Fairies, you know? But it's late. The cemetery is closed. You should go home.'

Homos? Fairies? Starsky wondered what strange land he had woken up in. A land where Hutch was alive, but thought Starsky was dead. A land where cemetery guards called men perverts for comforting their friends beside a grave. And whatever was a homo?

'Come on,' he said to Hutch. 'Let's find our way out.'

'The gate is that way,' said the guard. 'The gatekeeper will let you out.'

Hutch's car was parked near the gate. It looked like all Hutch's cars. Ready for the junkyard.

'Where are your keys?' asked Starsky. Hutch didn't answer. He seemed to be in another world, a condition Starsky understood. Perhaps they were both in other worlds, he thought. Perhaps they were both lost. But that didn't matter, because they had found each other. He dug in Hutch's pockets, and found the keys. He opened the car, and pushed Hutch inside. When he shut the door, and started around to the driver's side, Hutch opened the door again, and tried to follow.

'It's all right, Babe,' Starsky assured him. 'I'm not going anywhere.' He got in the passenger side, and pulled Hutch in after him. That was better. Starsky started the car, and drove away from the graveyard. Not a good atmosphere, he thought. He found a quiet side street, and stopped. The car warmed up, and they sat slumped against each other.

'Starsky?' Hutch whispered. 'What's going on?'

'I don't know, Babe. But it's late, and I'm cold and tired and hungry, and I need you. Let's go home, and figure it out in the morning. Okay?'

'Okay,' said Hutch.

'Um... where do we live, Hutch? Just out of curiosity.'

'I live at Venice Place, Starsky,' said Hutch. 'I don't know where you live. Not anymore. You've been in the hospital for months, and you couldn't keep your apartment going. We needed the money for your medical bills. And then, the other day. Starsky. You died. I was there.'

'Hutch. Don't think about it now. We'll think about it in the morning. Remember? Now, where's this Venice Place? The name doesn't sound familiar.'

 

********************

Starsky pulled up at Venice Place. An interesting building, he thought. Near the beach. There seemed to be a restaurant on the ground floor, which was promising. But it was late, and the restaurant was closed. Starsky hoped Hutch had something in his cupboards, or his refrigerator. He turned to ask, and was struck by the expression on Hutch's face. An expression of complete bemusement. As if an elaborate joke were being played on him, and he didn't mind, but was worried about the punch line.

'I just noticed,' said Hutch. 'You're dressed funny.'

'Yeah, so are you,' said Starsky. 'And you talk funny too. I've been thinking, we must have been separated, by the Gates, I mean. We've been in different Worlds, and we each thought the other was dead. Does that make sense, darling?'

'Nothing makes sense, Starsk. Gates? Different worlds? What are you talking about? Am I living in a Science Fiction movie, or TV show? Like Star Trek?'

'Star Trek? Never mind. This is pointless, and it's not what we want or need. Come on, Babe. Let's go inside, and get warm. And then get really warm.'

Starsky got out of the car, and Hutch followed quickly. It seemed he was still afraid of letting Starsky out of his sight. But Starsky could sympathize with that fear. Hutch found his own keys this time, and let them in the apartment. It was dusty, and stuffy. Starsky opened a window, and let in some fresh air. He shook his head over the beer cans littering the floor. 'I don't remember you being this bad a housekeeper, sweetheart,' he said.

'I haven't cared much about anything for months now, Starsky. You were dying.'

'I know what you mean,' said Starsky. 'I need something to eat, and some coffee. Then I need bed. With you. Where's the kitchen? And I hope the sheets are clean. But God! Why am I worrying about such little things? Come here.' He pulled Hutch into his arms once more, and claimed his mouth for a harsh kiss. 'Oh, my darling. You don't know what Hell the last few months have been without this. Let's fuck first, eat later. How does that sound?'

'Starsky? What are you talking about?'

'Oh, baby. Has it been so long you don't remember? Or are the words for it different here? That cemetery guard had some strange vocabulary. What's a homo? Hmm? Never mind. Where's the bedroom?'

Hutch stared at him, then shrugged. 'Over here,' he said, leading him to some sliding doors. He watched, while Starsky opened them, and stepped inside.

'Nice,' Starsky commented. 'A brass bed. Lots of plants.' He ripped the covers off the bed, and was pleased to see the sheets were clean. In fact, the bed looked unused. Where had Hutch been sleeping? At the hospital, most likely. He stripped off his jacket, and tore open his shirt. Then he glanced at Hutch, who was standing in the doorway, watching him.

'What's taking so long?' he asked. 'Don't you like me anymore?' He tried to smile, but something was wrong with his face. 'Hutch!' he cried. 'Come here. Hold me. I need you.'

Hutch was there, holding him close. Rocking him in his arms. 'Oh, Starsky,' he said. 'What are we going to do?'

'Make love, darling. Hold each other all night. Doesn't that sound like a good plan?'

'It does. But I don't know how to make love to you. I've never been with a man before.'

'Of course you have. You've been with me. Thousands of times. Don't you remember? I know. You've lost your memory. You lost it when you Travelled through the Gate. It never happened before, but something went wrong, I guess. That explains why you don't talk like yourself, too. Now, will you get out of those Damned clothes, and get into bed where you belong? I'll remind you of everything you need to know. I haven't forgotten how to make love. I'm a little rusty, but it's like riding a bicycle. You never really forget.'

Hutch laughed. His laugh sounded a bit like the laugh of a man trying to keep up his facade of bravado, when he's about to be shot at dawn. Don't worry, Babe. It's not going to be like that. I promise you're going to like this. I know exactly what to do.

'Hutch? Darling?' he asked.

'Yeah?' asked Hutch. His voice sounded shaky.

'When you were a kid, did you ever want a pony for Christmas?'

'Sure, Starsky. All boys do. But I never got one, of course. Why do you ask?'

'Because now you have one. Me. And you can ride me as hard as you like.'

 

**************

Starsky slid out of bed, trying not to jolt the mattress. He held his breath for a moment, but this time, Hutch seemed to be deeply asleep. He tiptoed into the bathroom, turned on the light, then laughed at his own reflection in the mirror. A two day beard. Dried blood on his forehead from hitting the wall at the warehouse. Haggard cheekbones from not eating properly for months. Dark circles under his eyes from not sleeping properly for months.

Bite marks all over his neck and shoulders. Beard burn over his entire body. Lips raw from kissing Hutch. A glorious smile all over.

I guess I'll live, he thought.

He left the bathroom door open, and turned on the shower. The hot water stung, in various tender places. Hutch hadn't been much gentler than the demon, thought Starsky. But he's a lot prettier, so I'll forgive him. Starsky thought about Hutch's condition, and his current confusion. It was all understandable. In this world, wherever the Hell this world is, I died about three days ago, after lingering in a coma for months. Poor Hutch. No wonder he's a mess. And I'm used to people appearing from other worlds. That's where Hutch came from originally. In this God-forsaken place, they've never heard of the Gates. I'm going to have to explain it all to him, from the beginning, and I'm not even sure I understand it properly myself.

What's important, here? I'm Starsky, and he's Hutch.

There was nothing edible in Hutch's kitchen. The fridge was empty, except for a couple of six packs of beer. Some moldy bread and two cans of soup were all the cupboards held. Hutch must have been eating at the hospital, as well as sleeping there. It was a wonder he was still alive.

I'm hungry, thought Starsky, so Hutch better have some money. He found his wallet, and rifled it. Several bills, with rather large numbers on them. $20 and $50. Surely he could get enough groceries for $90, unless inflation was out of control. His shirt was dirty, and had dried blood on it, so he borrowed one of Hutch's. His pants were ripped, so he dug through Hutch's drawers until he found a pair of jeans that fit. Then he scribbled a note, and left it on Hutch's bedside table.

Gone out to hunt for food so we won't starve. Man cannot live on beer alone, Turkey. Will be back soon. Your pony.

He drove around for a while, getting the feel of the city. Bay City, and yet not Bay City. No sign of demon activity, but lots of drug addicts, hookers and pimps. Starsky didn't know whether to consider that an improvement. Finally, he pulled into the parking lot, at a supermarket that he hoped was far enough from Hutch's apartment that no one would recognize him. He wasn't sure how to explain his rise from the grave. I don't think they'd believe I'm Jesus Christ, he thought.

Two big steaks, and potatoes to bake. A loaf of garlic bread, in case they have vampires here. After months of take out pizza, even I'm ready to admit a salad is good for you, on occasion, if you don't overdo it. Fresh coffee. Milk, and orange juice. Cookies? Hmm. Oatmeal's good for you, isn't it? A newspaper, so I can find out what's going on in this world. All that cost less than $20. But what are these bags made of? They stretch like cheap condoms. Hope they don't break like them.

He found Hutch's apartment again, and put the bags of groceries down before he opened the door. Sure enough. The instant he stepped inside, he was grabbed in a bear hug, and crushed against the door.

'Starsky! Where did you go?' Hutch mumbled into his hair. 'Why did you leave me?'

'I went to get groceries. I left you a note. Didn't you read it?'

'Yeah. It didn't make any sense. Something about beer, and turkey, and ponies. Your handwriting's terrible.'

'I'm sorry. Can I get the groceries? They're just outside the door.'

'What sort of groceries?' asked Hutch, suspiciously.

'Normal food, from a supermarket,' said Starsky. 'It has to be better than what you've been eating lately. Hospital cafeteria food, am I right?'

'I suppose so. I don't remember,' said Hutch, eyeing the bags of groceries with continued suspicion.

'Hospital food will do that to you,' said Starsky. 'Kills all your brain cells, and leaves you permanently disabled if you eat it long enough. I'm going to fry up these steaks. You make a salad, and put the potatoes in to bake. Have a cookie. You need your energy.'

'Starsky. Did anyone ever tell you you're bossy?'

'You see? You're starting to remember everything. It's just a matter of time.'

 

*******************

Hutch stared at the plate Starsky plunked down in front of him.

'Eat!' said Starsky.

Hutch picked up his fork, and poked at the steak with it.

'It's cooked, sweetheart. It won't moo at you.'

Hutch glared at Starsky, and picked up his knife. He took a deep breath.

'Do you want me to cut it up in little pieces for you?' Starsky asked him.

'Shut up, and eat your own dinner,' said Hutch. He looked at the clock. 'Lunch, I mean.'

'It's food, Hutch. We need food, whatever you want to call the meal. When was the last time you sat down and actually ate an entire meal?' Starsky cut into his steak, and chewed, reflectively. 'I can't remember either,' he added.

They ate for a while in silence.

'This is good,' said Hutch. 'Thanks.'

'You're welcome,' said Starsky. 'That goes for everything.'

'Starsk,' said Hutch.

'Hush. Just eat.'

'No. Listen.' Hutch put down his knife and fork, and looked at Starsky. 'Last night,' he said.

'Yes? What about last night?'

'I didn't ... I mean, I never ....'

'That's okay,' said Starsky, calmly. 'If you didn't like it, we don't have to do it again. I'll understand.'

'Not do it again? Of course I want to do it again. Starsky!'

Starsky took his hands, and kissed them. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I was joking. Not funny, I know. But Hutch, didn't I show you last night? I'm yours. Nothing can keep us apart. Not demons. Not the Gates. Not death. Nothing.'

'I wish I could believe all that,' said Hutch.

'Believe it,' Starsky told him.

'I keep thinking I'll wake up, and last night was a dream. Beautiful, but illusory. Like a bubble that bursts, and it's completely gone, as though it never existed. You know?'

'Yes. I know. Eat your lunch, Hutch, and you'll feel better. Then we'll try bursting a few more bubbles.'

Hutch ate his salad and his baked potato. Then he watched Starsky finish his own meal.

'You're Starsky,' he said, at last.

'I know. I always have been,' said Starsky.

'But not my own Starsky.'

'Hutch! Don't. I told you....'

'It's okay. My own Starsky wouldn't have done those things last night.' Hutch leaned forward, and took Starsky's hand. 'He wouldn't. I know that. I think, deep inside, I always wanted it, somehow, but never let myself even dream about it. We were close, always close, always together. It was enough.'

'Are you sure?' asked Starsky. 'Perhaps it was enough, but only because you never had more. Would it be enough now?'

Hutch closed his eyes, as though he couldn't look at Starsky and think at the same time.  
'No,' he said, after a long, terrible moment. 'It wouldn't be enough. Not now.'

 

*******************

 

Hutch followed him into the bedroom, his attitude a curious mixture of eagerness and reluctance. Almost like a young virgin with a first lover. It was amusing, thought Starsky. He smiled up at Hutch from under his lashes, and turned half away, to unbutton his shirt. Hutch laughed, and came over to him.

'May I do that?' he asked.

Starsky batted his eyes, and said, 'I suppose so. It's your shirt, after all.'

'I thought I recognized it. But your clothes are around, stored away in boxes, I think. Starsky!'

Hutch was shaking, again. Damn. Starsky kissed him, and rubbed his back, until he grew still.  
'I'm sorry,' said Hutch. 'But it was.... You were shot, and almost died. They said you did die, on the operating table. They brought you back to life, but you slipped into a coma. And then, you just slipped away, completely. I never had the chance to say goodbye.'

'There was no need to say goodbye,' said Starsky. 'I'm here. Take my shirt off.'

Hutch undid the buttons, obediently.

'Touch me,' said Starsky.

Hutch ran his fingers through the dark curls on Starsky's chest. He drew the shirt off Starsky's shoulders, and stroked his arms and back almost reverently. Last night, Hutch had been in a state of shock. He'd let Starsky do anything he wanted, helplessly accepting each caress, helplessly giving into his passion. With anyone else, Starsky would have been guilty of taking advantage. But this was Hutch.

My own Hutch, thought Starsky, whatever you believe. The demons took you away from me. They brought you here, they deprived you of your memories, and they gave you a demon impostor, who called himself Starsky. So, he wouldn't give you this? He deserved to die.

'Go on,' said Starsky, making it an order. 'Take off my pants for me.'

Hutch's hands were shaking, as they pulled down the zipper. His fingers brushed against Starsky's groin, and he moaned.

'Oh, yes. You like that, don't you?' Starsky growled. 'You want it. You've always wanted it. Say it. Tell me you've always wanted it.'

'I've always wanted it,' said Hutch. He was laughing a little, trying to hide his amusement, but not succeeding. That was fine with Starsky. If he was amused, he was less shy and afraid.

'What do you want to do with it?' he asked.

'I'm not sure,' said Hutch. He was looking everywhere but at Starsky's swelling cock.

'Close your eyes,' said Starsky. 'Listen to my voice. Remember last night? Think about last night. Remember how your body behaved? When I kissed you, you kissed back. Your lips weren't afraid, were they? They knew me. Your body knew me. Your body knows we're lovers. So does your heart and your soul. It's your head that's confused. Your head thinks we're only friends, but your body and your heart and your soul know better. What do they tell you, Hutch? No, keep your eyes closed. Don't look at me, just feel me. What does your body tell you, when you touch me? Listen to my voice. What does your heart tell you?'

'Starsk. I want to kiss you.'

'Yes. Kiss me,' said Starsky.

'I mean, I want to kiss you here,' said Hutch. He kept his eyes closed, as he knelt to kiss Starsky's cock. Starsky stayed very still, hardly breathing. He felt his lover's sweet lips, and then his tongue. It almost shattered him, but he held on. Now would not be a good time to fall apart. He wanted to enjoy every moment of this. Hutch gave the best blowjobs Starsky had ever had.

*********************

The ringing phone woke Starsky. He started to reach for it, but Hutch slapped his hand away, just in time.

'H'lo?' he mumbled. 'Yeah, Huggy. It's me, and I'm fine. No, I'm not sick. Why'd you ask? I was sleeping, okay. That's why I sound sleepy. You woke me up. No, I haven't been sleeping all this time. No, I don't need you to bring me dinner. 'Cause I had dinner, that's why. Huggy, look. You're my friend, but I don't want to see you right now. Huggy? Huggy? Damn. The son of a bitch hung up. He's coming over here. Bringing me dinner. Doesn't believe I ate anything. Think we can get out of Dodge in time?'

'Why? I wanna meet him,' Starsky said, in his own sleepy voice. 'And what's Dodge?'

'You can't meet Huggy, Starsk,' said Hutch, in a suddenly wide awake voice, filled with horror. He ignored Starsky's question about Dodge.

'Why not?' asked Starsky. 'We're old friends.'

'Because you're dead, that's why not,' said Hutch, in his scolding voice.

'Hutch,' said Starsky. 'I'm not dead. Worn out, yeah. Hungry again, yeah. If you don't want the dinner he's bringing over, I do. Come on. We better shower, first. We must smell pretty rank.'

'Starsky, you're incorrigible,' said Hutch, trailing after him, into the bathroom.

'Thanks. So are you,' said Starsky. He turned on the shower. 'Want to join me?' he asked.

They washed each other, tenderly. When Starsky's hands roused Hutch's sleepy cock, he fell to his knees to demonstrate his own cocksucking technique. Hutch's gasps and moans mingled with the sound of the rushing water. It was a symphony that Starsky never grew tired of hearing, and he said so, as they lay in an exhausted heap on the shower floor. The water turned tepid, then cold. The doorbell rang.

'I'll get it,' said Hutch. He struggled to his feet, and turned off the now icy shower. They were both shivering, but clean, and happy. 'You get dressed, and wait in the bedroom for now,' Hutch ordered. 'I don't suppose I can actually keep you from barging out there, eventually. Unless I tie you up in the closet, I mean.'

'You and what army, my darling?' asked Starsky, drying Hutch's hair with a towel. It was soft, and silky, and clung to Starsky's hands.

Hutch sighed. 'Just let me prepare him, okay? I don't know how, but I'll try. If you just walk out there ....'

'I know that,' said Starsky. 'I'm not stupid.'

'No. You're not. But you're convinced of the reasonableness of your wild story. Other worlds. Gateways. Demons. It's all crazy.'

'Then how do you explain me?' asked Starsky.

'I don't. I can't. But then, I never could. I'm wondering if Huggy will even see you. If he doesn't, then I'll know I'm insane.'

'If he doesn't, then Huggy's the crazy one,' said Starsky.

'You would say that,' said Hutch.

 

Starsky pulled on the jeans and shirt Hutch had removed with such tenderness some hours before. He wrapped himself in the memory of Hutch's hands on his body, Hutch's mouth on his cock. It was armour, he thought. Armour for the soul.

He listened as Hutch opened the apartment door and let Huggy inside. He couldn't help feeling stupid, hiding in here like a dirty secret, even if he knew it was necessary. But he'd been a part of Huggy's life, and Hutch's life for so many years. Hutch knew he was real. He knew he was Starsky, even if he couldn't admit he was the true Starsky. Hutch accepted their relationship. He wanted it to go on. Huggy's opinion wouldn't change that. This Huggy's opinion, he corrected himself.

'I brought you some lasagna,' Huggy was saying. 'Look, a big dish of it. Garlic bread, and a salad.'

'Uh. Thanks, man. That should come in useful.'

'Yeah. Useful is my middle name. Huggy Useful Bear. You sit down, and you eat.'

'Huggy, I told you, I ate already.'

'Sure you did. What'd you do? Open one of them cans of soup that's been knocking around in your cupboards since you moved in here? Should I take you to the hospital, just in case?'

'No, Huggy. I'll be fine. I had a steak.'

'A steak? A steak of what, man?'

'Beef. Look, Huggy. Sit down. I have something I want to tell you, now you're here.'

'Beef? You ate a steak?'

'Yeah. Sue me. Huggy, sit down, okay?'

'I think I should stay on my feet, man. You're acting really weird, you know? You don't look like yourself. I mean, not like yourself lately. Lately, as in the last few months. What's goin' on?'

'That's what I'm trying to tell you, Huggy. You know Starsky died?'

'Yeah, man. I was there. It ripped my heart right out of my body, Hutch.'

'Mine too. But you see, it grew back.'

'Grew back? What do you mean, Hutch? It grew back? You trying to tell me you're over Starsky dying already? No way.'

'That's not what I'm trying to tell you, Hugs. I'm telling you that my heart grew back, because Starsky isn't dead. Not really.'

'Ah, Hutch. Listen, man. Starsky... I know it's hard to accept that he's gone. If it gives you comfort to imagine his spirit is with us, that's okay. But Hutch, you have to face it. He's dead, Hutch. We buried him the other day.'

'I know. I was there. But he came back to me. He's here now. Starsky's here now.'

'Hutch? You trying to tell me his ghost... No. I don't believe that. You been drinking too much beer. That's what it is. Listen, Hutch. There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about. This is just between you and me. And you can forget all about it, right after I'm done talking, okay?'

'Okay, Huggy. What's this about?'

Hutch sounded mystified, and Starsky moved closer to the bedroom door, so he wouldn't miss a word.

'I wanted to tell you, that I always knew how much you loved Starsky. I loved him like a brother, the way I love you. But I know you loved him more than that. If you ever need to talk to anyone, I'm here. I won't judge you.'

'Thanks, Huggy. That's good, because I wanted to talk to you about that, as well. I do love Starsky more than as a brother. We slept together last night.'

'Slept together?' asked Huggy. He sounded a bit shocked.

'Yes. Slept together. In the same bed. Naked.'

'Ah!' Starsky could hear Huggy pacing up and down the living room. 'You slept with a ghost, Hutch? Naked? You're starting to frighten me, man.'

'Starsky's not a ghost. He's not dead. We slept together last night, and we fucked each other.'

'Okay,' said Huggy. 'Now I'm officially terrified. Starsky wouldn't do that, Hutch. Dead or alive.'

'That's not true, Huggy. I would, and I did.'

Huggy turned at the sound of Starsky's voice. He staggered, and Hutch jumped up to catch him before he could fall.

'Starsky?' Huggy gasped.

'In the flesh,' Starsky answered. 'I'm not a ghost, and it's really me.'

'Okay,' said Huggy. 'I think I will now sit down.'

He sat down, right there on the floor, and spent some time shaking like a leaf.

'I'll get you a beer,' said Starsky. 'There's a couple six packs in the fridge.'

 

********************

'I don't believe you guys,' Huggy kept muttering. They were sitting on the floor, drinking beer. Starsky said it reminded him of their Academy days, and Hutch agreed. He laughed, a little, then looked away, suddenly shy. Starsky wondered what had happened in their Academy days, in this world, according to Hutch's memories. Maybe he'd a few too many beers one night, and admitted to feelings he thought he shouldn't have?

'I don't believe you guys,' said Huggy, again. 'Hutch. My brother. Do you believe all this crap Starsky's giving us?'

'I don't believe it, or disbelieve it,' said Hutch. 'I'm keeping an open mind.'

'Yeah? An open mind, huh? Too open, I'm thinking, maybe.' Huggy edged closer to Hutch, and eyed Starsky suspiciously. 'How can we be sure this Starsky is for real? He looks like Starsky. He talks like Starsky. But he could be an impostor.'

'No. He's real, no doubt in my mind.'

'Why do you say that, man? Because he fucked you?' Huggy asked, brutally.

'Yeah,' said Hutch. 'He knew things about me, from the very beginning. How to turn me on. The right things to say and do.'

'Hutch, this is more than I need to know. Do you mind?' said Huggy.

'Well, I'm sorry,' said Hutch. 'But you asked. And it's the only evidence I have to go on. So far, I haven't seen any demons, or the Gate Starsky was talking about. But this is Starsky. Right down to the overly dramatic entrance. Did you have to jump in right then, Stupid? I was working up to inviting you to join us.'

'Sorry. But Huggy made me mad, when he said I wouldn't have made love to you. You said the same thing.'

'It's true,' said Hutch. 'Was true. Starsky wouldn't have touched me that way.'

'Why not?' asked Starsky. 'How do you know that?'

'He never gave me the least sign he was interested. He was always running after women. Woman after woman. Besides, it's dangerous. Homosexuality is illegal. You and I would be arrested, and could be sent to prison for life, if we were found out.'

'Ah,' said Starsky. 'I see. Huggy? I want you to understand something. I'm only interested in Hutch. He's my partner, in every way. But do something for me, would you? Take off your clothes.'

'What? No way, Starsky.'

'You're refusing?' asked Starsky. He got to his feet, and stood over Huggy in his most threatening manner. That was pretty threatening it seemed, in this world as well as his own. Huggy started to slide backwards, across the carpet. Hutch got up, and grabbed Starsky's arm.

'What's wrong?' he asked. 'What are you doing?'

'It's a test, that's all. Take off your clothes, Huggy. Or you fail the test. You scared of being seen naked? You ashamed?'

'Of course not!' said Huggy. 'Fine. I'll strip.' Huggy pulled off his clothes quickly, tossing them on a nearby chair. 'There!' he said. 'Huggy Bear, in all his naked glory. Happy?'

'Not yet,' said Starsky. He grabbed Huggy, and pulled him close, then kissed him, hard. His hands roamed up and down the long, dark back, searching out all the remembered points of....

He was flung away, by an enraged Huggy Bear. 'What the Hell do you think you're doing?' roared Huggy. Hutch didn't look much happier. Starsky felt surreptitiously for his demon-killing knives. They weren't necessary. Huggy turned away, tears in his eyes, trying without success to hide the beginnings of an erection.

'I'm sorry, Huggy. But I had to know.'

'Know what, Starsky?' Hutch demanded. 'Know that you can turn on any man, given the chance? Is that all you wanted from me, too?'

'No, darling. I needed to know if Huggy was a demon, like the Starsky in this world. He was a demon, I'm sure of it.'

 

****************

'Okay, let me get this straight.' said Hutch. 'You think I'm the Hutch from your world. That I was brought here by demons, and that Starsky was a demon, too? That all my memories were faked somehow?'

'That about wraps it up, yeah,' said Starsky.

'But, what about everyone else? They have memories of me, as well. Like Huggy Bear. You remember me, right?'

'Sure man. Goin' way back,' said Huggy.

'And his memories are real enough, I guess. Memories of the real Hutch in this world. He probably died at some point, and they replaced him with you.'

'You're giving me a headache,' said Hutch. 'This is like a soap opera. Why the elaborate plot? Who would go to so much trouble?'

'Demons,' said Starsky, firmly. 'It's how they think. How they operate. They're always trying to twist things, and manipulate people. It's what they do. There are many kinds of demons. Some can take human form. But, if they lose control, they go back to demon form. Demons lose control, when they have sex. That's why your Starsky wouldn't make love to you, Hutch. And what's a soap opera?'

'But... but Starsky, he may not have made love to me, but he had many women. I know that.'

'Perhaps. Perhaps he had sex with them, and wiped their memories. Perhaps he created false memories. Many demons have that ability. But it's tricky. Did he have a girlfriend?'

'No. A different woman every time.'

'You see, memories can be wiped only so often. You could go crazy, or catatonic, or your real memories might come back.'

'I still don't understand why they'd do this. Why not just kill me?'

'Some demons would. But for others, that's not enough revenge. It's too simple, too easy. Not enough pain for us both. But to separate us. To make me think you were dead. To bring you to this world, and put me within reach, but unavailable, and then to kill me as well, leaving you alone. To have us both alive, but thinking the other is dead? That's diabolical, don't you think?

'When you put it that way, yes. But why did they want to get revenge on us?'

'We're demon hunters. We've killed many demons. But they didn't count on us meeting again. Now that we're together again, we can go back where we belong. You're a Traveller. You can open the Gate, Hutch. I know where the Gate is. Right by my gravestone. We can go there today. Now, if you like. Open the Gate, and we'll be home.'

'Starsky? I can't do that. This is my home. This is where I belong.'

'You don't want to go home with me? Hutch, look into your heart. You know that's where you belong.'

'No, Starsky. I don't know that. You're wrong. And you were wrong about Starsky. My Starsky, I mean. He wasn't a demon. I'm thinking you are.'

'Hutch! Darling, don't talk like that.'

'Don't call me stupid, childish names like that. Like I was your girlfriend, or something. I'm a man. Start treating me like one.'

'Hutch? What's wrong? Why are you talking like this?'

'You're wrong, Starsky. This whole thing is wrong. I have to get some fresh air. I think I've been in here with you long enough.'

'Hutch! Don't. Don't walk out, Babe.'

'I'm not your baby, Starsky. We'll talk later. Maybe.'

The door shut, and Starsky listened to Hutch's footsteps, going down the stairs. He couldn't seem to move for a moment, as if his legs no longer worked. Then, as he heard the street door bang, he came back to life, and started after his lover. Huggy grabbed his arm.

'Leave it, Starsky. Let Hutch think for a while. You can't force him to go with you. Wherever it is you want to go. You're asking him to take a lot on trust. Too much. I don't believe a word you say, myself.'

'It's all true, Huggy. Every word of it.'

'So you say. But where's your proof, man?'

'Here, Huggy.' Starsky tapped his own chest, over his heart. 'It's right here. If Hutch is really Hutch, he'll believe.'

Starsky ran down the stairs after Hutch, but when he reached the street, Hutch had disappeared.

 

*****************

Starsky wandered the streets of Bay City for a while, feeling like one of the homeless people, carrying all they owned in shopping bags. Actually, they owned more than he did, he thought. The clothes on his back belonged to Hutch. So did his body, and his heart and soul. But Hutch no longer wanted them. Perhaps he never had. Perhaps he had forced himself on Hutch, and Hutch had only welcomed him because he was lonely, and in mourning for another man.

Starsky caught a taxi, and went to the only place he could now call home. The cemetery had a tombstone with his name on it, he thought. There was a Gate into his own time and place. Perhaps he could open that Gate and go home, since he belonged there.

Hutch was sitting on his grave. He should have known that was where Hutch would be. Starsky stood behind a tree, and watched as the person he loved most in all the universe wept. Once he would have run to Hutch to comfort him, but how could he do that now, when Hutch thought he was evil? Dammit, he thought. Get over your self pity, and go to the man. Beg his forgiveness.

At that moment, Hutch looked up, and saw him waiting. 'Starsky?' he whispered. His eyes were full of tears.

Starsky felt strangely awkward, for the first time ever, as he walked towards his lover. He held out his hands. 'Hutch,' he said. 'I'm so sorry. Please forgive me?'

'Don't be sorry,' said Hutch. 'I'm the one who should be sorry.'

'Sorry? You? Why should you be sorry? You didn't do anything. I came here, and disrupted your life, then asked you to leave this world and come to mine. I'm sorry, Hutch. I only wanted to make you happy again.'

Hutch took his outstretched hands, and drew him down on the grass that covered the grave. The grave that bore the tombstone with his own name.

'You've done everything for me, Starsky. Fed me, and comforted me, and loved me. Maybe even saved my life. I was so crazy, last night. I planned to kill myself, right here. I planned to eat my own gun. Probably wouldn't have done it. But who knows?'

'You wouldn't have done it, Hutch. It's against everything you believe.'

'How can you be so sure?'

Starsky was silent, for he'd vowed never to speak of it again.

'I know,' said Hutch. 'You've been my lover for many years. We belong in another world. Together. It's too difficult for me to comprehend, Starsky.'

'Then don't,' said Starsky. 'I won't mention the subject to you again, if you just forgive me. We'll do whatever you want. Go wherever you want. What were you going to do, when I showed up? Rather than kill yourself, I mean?'

'I don't know. I've been on leave from the police force, since Starsky was shot. I'm not capable of handling casework, right now. Perhaps a desk job.'

'I don't know what sort of job I could do here, without references, or proof of an education. I don't even have a driver's license. Washing floors?'

'Oh, Starsky. You're worth so much more than that.'

'I don't care. I want to be with you, if you'll let me. In whatever way you let me. If you only want to be friends, that's fine. As long as we're together.'

'You know I want more than that, Starsk. But listen. I need to tell you something. I don't believe he was a demon. He wasn't evil, Starsky. He cared about me, and it wasn't pretence.'

'Okay. I never met him, so I can't know, either way. I'll take your word for it.'

'He died saving my life. He stepped in front of me, and took all those bullets. For me. And he looked up at me, as the blood ran out of him, onto the garage floor. And he told me he loved me. That he couldn't let me die.'

'I see,' said Starsky.

'Either he was human, and just what he seemed to be, or he was a demon, but no longer evil.'

'That could happen, I suppose,' said Starsky. 'How could even a demon hate you, once he got to know you? Perhaps he was a demon, and fell in love with you, and that made him mortal. It happens.'

'Does it?' asked Hutch. He pulled Starsky close, and laid his head on his shoulder, and wept. 'It was so hard,' he said. 'Watching him fade. Hoping that every twitch was a sign he was coming back to me. And then, he just stopped breathing. His heart stopped, and nothing could bring him back. I knew he didn't want machines keeping his body alive, while there was no one left there, inside.'

'You were right,' said Starsky.

They sat quietly for some time. Then Hutch said, 'I want to go home. I need to think. When I first got here, I tried to open that Gate you told me about. But I couldn't. I'd like to be able to send you home, at least. If you want to go.'

'Not without you,' said Starsky. 'Not unless you grow to hate me so much, you can't bear that I'm in the same world as you.'

'I could never hate you, Starsky,' said Hutch.

They got to their feet. Starsky turned back toward the path. There was someone standing there, watching them. It was the guard from the other night. The one who had called them perverts, and homos.

'Good evening,' said Starsky. 'Is there a problem?'

'Yes,' said the guard. 'I see you're back. And still hanging all over each other. I think you're the ones with the problem.'

'Well, we're leaving again. Would you like us to call ahead, next time we come? You could bring a folding chair and a thermos of coffee.'

'Very funny,' said the guard. He slunk away, among the gravestones.

'What was that all about?' asked Hutch.

'Nothing,' said Starsky. 'Just a ghoul.'

A police car was cruising by, as they reached the cemetery gate. 'Hutch?' asked Starsky. 'Let me drive?'

'Sure,' said Hutch. 'How did you get here, anyway?'

'I took a taxi,' said Starsky. 'I had some money on me, from this morning, when I shopped for groceries. Do you recognize that officer?'

Hutch didn't turn around. He waited until Starsky turned the car, and glanced out of the corner of his eye. 'He looks familiar,' he answered. 'Why?'

'He's a demon,' said Starsky.

 

'Why do you think that?' asked Hutch. He sounded merely curious, not scoffing.

'I don't think he's a demon,' said Starsky. 'I know it.'

'How do you know it, then?' Hutch was silent for a moment. The police car slid in behind them, several lengths back. 'Do you see something I can't see?'

'Yes,' said Starsky. 'You're remembering more all the time.'

'Not really remembering. It just makes sense. If you're sure, you must see something that tells you he's a demon.'

'Or hear. Or feel. Or smell. There are lots of ways to recognize demons, or sense their presence. But not everyone has the talent, or all the talents. I can see signs of demonhood, and sometimes hear them. It's why I became a Hunter. You're a Traveller. You can open Gates. You can open Windows. You can peel back layers of Illusion, and expose Reality. I'm going to see if we can shake this tail we've picked up. Close your eyes and let me drive.'

'The police know where I live,' Hutch pointed out, but he obeyed.

'Yes,' said Starsky. 'But I don't think this is a police matter. This is a demon matter. They just discovered a Demon Hunter is among them. A notorious one, I might add. And I've joined forces with you. We are a Joined Force, aren't we?'

'Yes,' said Hutch. 'But I'm angry. What happened to the 'darling'?'

'I thought you didn't like it.'

'I liked it. I liked it too much.'

Hutch turned on the car radio. The last notes of a song died out, and a new one began. A strange, primitive rhythm. A wailing horn of some kind. A powerful male voice. A love song, about a demanding love.

"I wanna tell you how it's gonna be, you're gonna give your love to me,  
I wanna love you night and day, you know my love not fade away.  
You know my love not fade away, not fade away!

My love is bigger than a Cadillac, I try to show you but you drive me back,  
Your love for me has got to be real, you're gonna know just how I feel.  
Our love is real, not fade away, not fade away!"

'Our love is real, not fade away.' Hutch sang along with the radio. He had a beautiful voice, and Starsky had missed it, almost as much as his body in bed.

'Is that what you think?' asked Starsky. 'That our love is real to you now?'

'I think you should lose the demon cop, and then drive us home,' said Hutch.

Starsky shook the demon after a few miles of twists and turns. Then, he headed out to the canyons.

'Where are we going?' asked Hutch.

'Shh, darling. Just close your eyes and let me drive, remember? Have you even been out of the city, since he was shot?'

A half moon was lazily sailing the night sky, among the prolific stars. Hutch sighed, and leaned his head back. He rested his hand on Starsky's thigh. It was worth all the pain of the last few hours, to see him relax like that, and trust his Starsky.

The radio was playing something soft and romantic. Hutch rubbed his palm against Starsky's thigh, then a little higher up. Starsky turned, to catch a look of lust from Hutch's heavy-lidded eyes. They were in a lonely, deserted canyon, and it was very late. Starsky pulled over.

'Is there a blanket in the trunk?' he asked.

'Yes,' said Hutch, with feigned innocence. 'Why?'

'It has been too long since you've been out of the city, if you have to ask me that,' said Starsky.

There was a blanket, and a heavy rug in the trunk. They found a sheltered spot under a tree, and spread out the rug. Starsky wrapped them in the blanket.

'I want you inside me, Starsky,' said Hutch. 'Will you come inside me?'

'Oh, my baby. You destroy me, when you ask for things like that. You don't ever have to ask.'

Hutch was warm inside. So warm. It had been too long. Far too long. Starsky bit down on the leather sleeve of Hutch's jacket, to keep from screaming. It was more difficult to keep from coming too soon. But he wanted to make this worthwhile. If it was worth doing, it was worth doing properly, and for a very long time.

 

******************

'Don't go yet,' whispered Hutch.

'I won't,' Starsky managed to answer. He felt at peace. Quiet inside. The little nibbling voices, like mice scrabbling in the walls of his mind, urging him to go to Hutch, to join him in death, were gone. He had joined Hutch, in life. Wherever that life would be, whatever it would lead to, however they would live, they were a Joined Force.

Hutch was smiling. Though his eyes were closed, he knew. He could feel it.

'When you lay there so still, I wanted to take you inside me, warm you like this, and bring you back to life. When he lay there, I mean. I'm sorry.'

'It doesn't matter,' said Starsky. 'He died for you. I'd die for you. We're the same, under the skin, whatever he was, or I am.'

The cool wind that had been blowing down the canyon for some time, was turning cold. The rug no longer kept out the autumn chill from the ground.

'We should go home,' said Hutch. 'Get something to eat. Sleep. Then we'll talk. Make plans. Does that sound good to you?'

'It sounds great,' Starsky answered. But they didn't move for a while. It was too good to lie like this, listening to each other breathe, far away from the troubles of both their worlds. At last Starsky rose up, on his elbows, and looked down at their joined bodies. 'Did I hurt you?' he whispered. 'I didn't hurt you, did I?'

'Only a little,' Hutch answered. 'It was a pain like being born. A pain like coming back to life. The last few months, I felt as if I were in a coma, too. And then I died.'

Starsky slipped out of Hutch's body, and Hutch sighed. 'I never thought I could like it. Having another man's cock inside me. But it's you, you know? Let's go home, and make plans to live.'

Starsky drove slowly, wanting to cling to the peace, and the quiet inside. His own personal peace could never be held onto, he knew. It could be seen out of the corner of his eye, if Hutch smiled at him. It could be felt, like a warm spring breeze, if Hutch touched his hand. That was all. It could never be captured, and held prisoner, or the peace would die.

There was a police car parked down the street from Hutch's apartment. Why were they so obvious about it? Were they trying to fool Starsky into complacency with the blatant nature of their surveillance techniques? Or did they simply not care? Starsky drove a couple of blocks past Hutch's place, and pulled over. He felt for his demon killing knives, and pulled the extra one out of his boot.

'Take this,' he said to Hutch, and handed him the hilt. 'Be careful. It's very sharp. It can cut through demon hide. You could cut the heart out of a demon with that.'

Hutch examined the knife, curiously. 'I've never seen a design like this,' he said. 'The scrolling on the hilt, I mean.'

'Yes, you have,' Starsky told him. 'It was your knife. It came from your own world. Look at the scrolls. What do they tell you?'

Hutch studied the designs on the hilt. He shook his head.

'Don't think in terms of letters, of an alphabet,' said Starsky. 'Let the scrolls lead you into the maze, and tell me what you find at the heart.'

Hutch gazed obediently at the scrolls, and Starsky could feel his attention narrowing. He kept his eye on the street, watching for any signs that a demon might notice their presence. Hutch looked up, suddenly. 'Something is wrong,' he said. 'Something is different.'

'Different, how?' asked Starsky.

'I don't know. Something is different about the street, since we left here earlier. Something is wrong.'

'There is the police car,' said Starsky. 'That's different.'

'Yes,' said Hutch. 'But there's more.'

'Should I drive up to your building, or do you want to get out here and walk?'

Hutch looked down at his knife hilt. 'Let's get out of the car. Walk down the alley, and go in by the back door.'

Hutch opened the car door, silently. Starsky slid across the seat, and out Hutch's door. Hutch closed the car door, as silently as he'd opened it. They moved slowly into the alley, then ran quickly through the darkness. Darting into doorways, as they worked their way around. Hutch opened the back door to his apartment building. They tiptoed up the stairs. Hutch was leading the way, as he knew these stairs well, even in the dark. He pulled a small flashlight out of his jacket pocket, and shone it on the lock. Starsky unlocked the door, and they slipped inside. The apartment was dark, for the most part, but a faint light came from the streetlights. Shadows filled the corners.

Shadows upon shadows, thought Starsky. The apartment was dark, but not empty.

'Who is here?' asked Hutch. 'Is it you, Huggy? Speak!'

A shadowy man got up from a shadowy chair. 'No,' said the man. 'I'm not Huggy.'

'Captain Dobey?' asked Hutch. 'What are you doing here, hiding in the dark?'

'I'm here to warn you,' said Captain Dobey. 'Charges have been laid against you, Hutch. Charges of committing sodomy with another man. They're coming to arrest you. You should run, now.'

 

Hutch was silent for a long moment. 'Sodomy?' he asked at last. 'What sort of evidence do they have?'

'What difference does that make?' asked Dobey, falling back down into his chair, with an audible thump. 'They can't have any evidence, of course. The charge is nonsense. But they'll invent the evidence, Hutch. Clearly you're on someone's Black List.'

'Whoa,' said Starsky. 'Sodomy? Invent the evidence? What are you talking about, Dobey?'

'Who's that?' asked Dobey. 'You're not who you sound like. Who are you?'

'We're being watched,' said Hutch. 'Or I'd turn on the light, and you could see for yourself. Who does he sound like, Dobey?'

'He sounds like Starsky. But Starsky is dead.'

'I wish people would quit saying that. It gives me the creeps,' said Starsky. 'I'm very much alive. But I'm pissed off. One of you explain what sodomy is. Why is Hutch being charged with it?'

'Sodomy is anal intercourse, by a man with either a woman or another man,' Hutch informed him. 'Both are illegal, but usually it's only the case of a man with a man that is actually prosecuted.'

'Why?' asked Starsky, in complete bewilderment.

'That's a good question,' said Hutch. 'A question which would take many hours of investigation for us to even begin to answer. So let's not start.'

'Fair enough. Now, tell me what you mean about invented evidence.'

'Oh, cops do it all the time,' said Hutch. 'If they don't have real evidence, they plant it. Anything to get a conviction.'

'In our world, Hutch, that's a serious crime. So serious, that a police officer could face the death penalty if convicted.'

'That's not the case here,' Hutch told him.

'Now that you've answered this man's questions, perhaps you could answer mine?' asked Dobey. 'Who is he?'

'I'm Starsky,' said Starsky. 'The real Starsky. The other was an impostor. Hutch and me have enemies, and they kidnapped me, and replaced me with a look-alike. I escaped, and here I am. Satisfied?'

'No. I'm not satisfied,' said Dobey. 'That's the most ridiculous story I've ever heard.'

'Okay,' said Starsky. 'I'm from another dimension. Hutch is from my world. He was kidnapped and brought here by demons, to get revenge on us. I came here to take Hutch home. How's that?'

Starsky could almost see the steam coming from Dobey's ears. He tried to speak several times, but finally only managed one word. 'Demons?' he said.

'Demons,' said Starsky. 'You have demons on your own police force, and they're the ones who are after Hutch.'

'Demons,' said Dobey again. 'You know, that almost makes a kind of sense. Probably because I'm sitting here in the dark with you. It makes more sense than that you would commit sodomy with another man, Hutch. That I can't believe.'

'Believe it, Dobey,' said Hutch. 'It's true enough. But I'm taking your advice. I wasn't coming back to Metro anyway. Starsky and I are leaving town.'

'Starsky?' asked Dobey.

'Yeah. This is Starsky. The man I committed sodomy with.'

'I don't understand you, Hutch,' said Dobey.

'Neither do I,' muttered Starsky. 'Sodomy. Committed sodomy. I thought we made love.'

'You don't have to understand me, Captain,' Hutch continued. 'I'm leaving, as I said. You can forget all about me, and go on with your life. I'll be happy.'

'I don't want to forget you, son. I care about you. I don't understand what happened. No. I do understand. This man looks like Starsky, and he convinced you he is Starsky. That's it. You were tricked somehow. I'll testify to that, and he'll be convicted, not you.'

Dobey got up from his chair, and started for the door.

'Captain?' asked Hutch. 'What are you doing?'

'Saving you from yourself,' said Dobey. 'Everything will be okay. You'll see.'

'No!' said Hutch. 'You don't understand. You're wrong about Starsky.'

'I'm not wrong, you are,' Dobey answered. 'This isn't Starsky -- Wilson? Humphries? All of you, come on up,' he shouted down the stairs. Many heavy footsteps tramped up to the door. 'Take them into custody,' said Dobey.

He turned on the lights, blinding Starsky and Hutch. Cops poured into the room, weapons drawn. They were outnumbered, with no chance to escape. It seemed the only option at the moment was to surrender.

The demon cop entered the room. He smiled at Starsky. 'You thought you could escape me,' he said. 'But my traps are many.'

Starsky didn't answer.

'Search them for weapons,' said the demon cop.

His henchmen patted Starsky and Hutch down quite thoroughly. 'Nothing,' they reported.

'Where are they? Where are your knives?' asked the demon.

'You know I can't tell you that,' said Starsky.

'I'll take you apart until I find them,' said the demon.

'Hey! None of that,' said Dobey. 'They'll be searched and processed at Metro. No police brutality. At least not against Hutch. He's innocent.'

'Sure he is,' said the demon. And he smirked. 'Take them out to the car, boys,' he ordered. 'Let's go down to Metro, and process them.'

 

Hutch seemed to be in a state of shock. He said not a word, as the cops led him out his apartment door.

'This is just a formality, Hutch,' said Dobey. 'Once I've explained the circumstances to the D.A., I'm sure you won't be charged.'

'Formality my ass,' said Starsky, as he was dragged out behind his lover. 'How could you do this to him, Dobey? After what he's been through the last few months. Who are you?'

'I'm his friend, which is more than what you are,' said Dobey. He stared at Starsky. 'Now I see you, I can tell why you fooled him. This is for his own good. I'm saving him from a life of sexual sin, and degradation. What were you trying to do? Destroy him?'

'Give him his own life back. But why put him through this? Take me down to Metro, if you like. Let him alone.'

Hutch turned at that, suddenly alive again. 'Oh, no,' he said. 'We're in this together. Whatever happens to you, happens to me. I won't stand by while they charge you, and let me go. We'll both go down, or neither of us.'

'Hutch,' said Dobey. 'You don't know what you're saying. He's poisoned your mind, somehow. That's obvious.'

'What's obvious, Dobey, is that you're not the man I thought you were. I thought you were my friend. But you're a traitor, and I don't want to know you.'

'Hutch!' Dobey protested.

'Take me to Metro,' Hutch told the cops. 'I'd rather be locked in a cell than stand here listening to him justify himself.'

The cops hauled them down the stairs and out to one of the squad cars. They shoved them in the back seat. At least they hadn't separated them, thought Starsky. Yet.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered to Hutch.

Hutch turned to him, a look of astonishment on his face. 'Why?' he asked. 'What have you done?'

'This is my fault,' said Starsky. 'If it hadn't been for me....'

'It's not your fault, it's theirs. And I set myself up for it, in a way. When I went on leave, to stay by his bedside, night and day. The tombstone, as well.'

'Oh, yes,' said Starsky. 'David Starsky. Faithful Partner of Kenneth Hutchinson.'

'That's what you are, Starsky. And that's what you'll stay, if they kill me for it.'

'I hope it won't come to that,' said Starsky.

'It could. Obviously you don't know how much hatred there is against men like us in this world.'

'Men who love each other?' asked Starsky. 'They hate us? Why?'

'Because they're weak inside. Love terrifies them. Love they can't put a label on, and control.'

'When I first came here, I thought there was very little demon activity. I was wrong. It's just more subtle, and harder to fight. But we have an advantage. You notice they didn't find our knives?'

'Yes. Why not? Mine is....'

'No. Don't say the words. Demon-killing knives can't be seen or felt by anyone but a Demon Hunter. Reach for yours. You can do it, even though your hands are tied.'

'Starsky? I can't.... Wait! It's in my hand. How did that happen?'

'You're a Demon Hunter. I keep telling you. Now, put it back. It will come in useful, eventually. Is it safe?'

'Yes. That was weird.'

'I know. It was to me, the first time. Shh. Here come the cops.'

One of the demon cop's henchmen opened the squad car door, and climbed in the front, on the passenger side. 'Having fun, boys?' he asked, leaning over the seat back. They ignored him. He leaned over further and hit Hutch in the face. 'I asked you a question, fag,' he said.

'I want my lawyer present, before I answer any questions,' Hutch answered.

'Lawyer? You? Shit like you doesn't get a lawyer. You should all be shot on sight. Making decent cops look bad. Like we all suck cock on our off time.' He hit Hutch again, and then again.

'Hey! You leave him alone,' Starsky shouted. 'Dobey said no police brutality.'

'Who cares what Dobey says. He's a little too weak minded, if you know what I mean. Too soft. If he had his way, we'd all be pansies and fruits. Guys fucking each other in the showers. That's what you want, don't you, Hutch?'

Starsky flung himself over Hutch, so the blows were falling on him, instead. He heard a shout from the apartment doorway. Dobey, calling out something. 'Stop! Drive them to Metro. Now!'

Another cop got in behind the wheel of the car. He was laughing. 'Dobey wants us to take these fairies to Metro,' he said.

'Sure thing,' said his partner. 'You drive us to Metro. We'll process this shit, then go home. The world will be a lot cleaner, thanks to us.'

'What are you talking about?' asked Starsky.

The first cop leaned over the seat again. 'I'm feeling kind tonight, so I'll tell you,' he said. 'We're not going to Metro. We're going to the cemetery. Have a little choir practice.'

'Choir practice?' asked Hutch.

'Yeah. Like when you were in uniform, remember?' asked the cop.

'No,' said Hutch. 'I never took part in any of that stuff. I heard about it, though.'

'Now that's why you aren't a real man, cocksucker,' said the cop. 'You should have gone to choir practice. It teaches you what's right and what's wrong. We're right, Wilson and me. You guys are wrong. Got that? It's too late for you, though. Far too late. But at least we can put you to some use, teaching the young cops. You're going to be used as an example. It's all you're good for.'

 

*****************

It was the hour before dawn. The hour when the human spirit is at its lowest, but the demonic powers rule supreme. The smirk on the face of the demon cop had grown wider, thought Starsky, as they made their way into the cemetery grounds. The guard who spied on them earlier had greeted them at the gate, and let them in. Now that he was surrounded by his friends, and Starsky and Hutch were in handcuffs, he no longer slunk about, Starsky noticed.

The moon had set, and only one star was visible. Starsky wondered if he should wish upon it. 'Starlight, star bright, last star I see tonight,' he murmured.

Hutch turned to him, and gave him a secret smile. 'Make a wish,' he murmured back.

'Here we are,' said the demon cop. 'The grave of a demon, who turned traitor against his kind. He died, protecting a human. Now, you die, and you get to share one hole in the ground. Will that be good for you?'

'Anything's better than having to go on looking at your face,' said Starsky. He looked down at the headstone that bore his name.

'Are you sure about that?' asked the demon. 'We'll put your theory to the test. Who wants to go first?' He pulled his baton out of its belt loop, and waved it under Hutch's nose. 'Oh, don't worry,' he continued. 'I'm not going to hit you with it. You fairies like having long, thick objects shoved up your ass, don't you? I'm going to give you a treat. Your last fuck. Hold him down, boys.'

'No! No! Please,' Hutch begged. 'I'm not a fairy. I was drugged, and raped by him. It's all his fault, I swear.'

'Is that a fact?' asked the demon, with his largest smirk yet.

'Yes! I can prove it,' said Hutch. 'I never took part in choir practice, but I'm willing to try now.'

The demon cop laughed. 'You're a little late for that, but why not? Better late than never. If you do good, maybe we'll let you live a while longer. You're my bitch now. Got that?'

'Sure, sure. Anything you say. Just let me prove it.'

The demon seemed to consider Hutch's request for a moment, then nodded. 'Okay, boys. Take off his handcuffs. But watch him.' He looked at Hutch, carefully. 'Don't try to escape, if that's what you're after,' he said. 'I'll shoot you in the back. Got that?'

'Sure, sure. Anything you say,' said Hutch, again. One of the cops unlocked his cuffs. Hutch turned to Starsky. 'Fag!' he screamed. 'You filthy fag.' He knocked Starsky to the ground, and started to kick him. Kick him hard. The other cops laughed and cheered. First one, and then another, began to join in. Starsky rolled over on his stomach as much as he could, trying to protect his vital organs. The rage of the cops was growing, and Starsky could feel the blood lust in the air. He didn't know how much more he could take.

Then, he heard Hutch's voice again. A perfect roar, this time. 'Tell them to stop! Tell them to back off, or I'll kill you!'

The cops stopped kicking Starsky. They moved away a little to check out what was happening. Starsky risked a glance up, from his position on the ground. Hutch had the demon cop down, his demon-killing knife at his throat.

'I'm not kidding, pig,' said Hutch. 'Tell your goons to stop, or the last thing you'll ever see in this world, will be your own heart, beating on the ground in front of you.'

'They'll kill you, right after,' said the demon.

'Maybe,' said Hutch. 'But you'll still be dead, so what good will that do you?'

'Fair enough,' said the demon. 'Wilson. Back off. The rest of you, too. Just for now. Until I get this lunatic off my chest.'

'Tell them to move right away,' said Hutch. 'Over to that line of trees.'

'Oh, no,' said the demon. 'That's too far. Ugh! Stop that!'

'I said, tell them to move over to those trees. I don't like them so close. It makes me nervous. The more nervous I get, the more blood you lose.'

'We can rush him,' said Wilson.

'No,' said the demon. 'Not yet. Do as he says.'

'Okay,' said Wilson. He didn't sound happy. Starsky didn't care.

'Can you get on your feet, Starsky?' Hutch asked.

Starsky struggled to his feet, and stumbled over to Hutch's side. He sat down, and wriggled until he had his bound hands in front of him. Then, he reached for one of his knives.

'That's a neat trick,' said Hutch. 'Did you study with Houdini?'

'Who?' said Starsky.

'Never mind,' said Hutch. He looked at Starsky. His eyes asked the question for him. What do we do next?

'Hutch,' Starsky whispered. 'You're a Traveller. Open the Gate.'

Hutch stared into Starsky's eyes. 'Starsk,' he whispered. 'I can't open these Gates you keep telling me about. You're wrong about me. I'm not your Hutch, the one you loved. I'm someone different. Sorry if I disappoint you.'

'You don't disappoint me, and I'm not wrong. Hutch, listen. I've been thinking. Why did the Gate open, the moment I hit the wall? Gates don't open like that. You opened it. You called me through. You were visiting his grave, thinking about killing yourself because he died. You were calling to me. Begging me to come to you, and rescue you, even if you didn't know it.'

'Yes,' said Hutch. 'I was. Because I love you.'

The demon cop made a retching sound, but grew silent when Hutch dug his knife into his throat. 'Stay out of this,' Hutch snarled. 'We're having a private conversation, here.'

'Let me up,' said the demon. 'I'll retire and let you chat in peace.'

'Sure you will,' said Starsky. He watched the demon as he continued to persuade Hutch. 'You know how to open the Gates, Hutch. Your body, and your heart, and your soul know. The way they knew how to make love to me.'

'Starsky?' Hutch whispered. 'Not here. We have an audience.'

'Yes, here,' said Starsky. 'It doesn't really bother the audience, does it?' he asked the demon. 'Your goons were sincerely disgusted, but you were just acting. Demons don't give a fuck who anyone fucks. You'd fuck anything, on two legs or four. Alive or dead.'

'Well, yeah,' said the demon proudly. 'Don't let it get around, or horny zombies will be lining up for blocks.'

'We won't,' said Starsky. 'If you tell us what it is you're after.'

'What I'm after?' mused the demon. 'I'm after a lot of things.'

'Of course,' said Starsky. 'So are we.' He looked around, at the cemetery, the huddle of cops over by the trees. The gravestone with his name carved into it. The gravestone that marked a Gate into another world. 'You set this up, didn't you? You never meant to kill us. Well, at least before Hutch opened the Gate. You wanted Hutch to open the Gate, but you knew he'd never do it for you. He doesn't remember how. But I can remind him. Hutch could open it for me.'

'Sanctity,' cursed the demon. 'Foiled again.'

'I tell you what,' said Starsky. 'We have a bit of a stalemate, don't we? Why don't we end it? We'll let you up. You keep your pals at bay.'

'Why should I?' asked the demon.

'Why should we?' asked Hutch.

'Because you have to let me go, to return to your own world?' suggested the demon.

'You're right,' said Starsky. 'We do. But we're not going to do it, without some sort of prior agreement, specifying honourable behaviour. And there are one or two questions I want to ask you. Why don't we make a little truce for now. If you kill us, we can't open the Gate, can we?'

'And if you kill me, my goons will kill you, before you return to your world.'

'A stalemate,' said Starsky. 'How about a truce?'

'Sure,' said the demon. 'A truce.'

'You don't trust him, do you Starsky?' asked Hutch.

'Of course I don't trust him,' said Starsky. 'He's a demon. But he still needs us to open the Gate. Then all bets are off. Right?'

'Right,' agreed the demon. 'Now, why don't you let me up, and we'll talk business.'

'Yeah, let him up, Hutch. But keep an eye on him.'

Hutch removed his knife from the demon cop's throat. He backed off, slowly. The demon got up, with equal slowness. 'It's okay, boys,' he called out. 'We have a truce, for now.'

'Truce?' asked Wilson.

'Yeah. They won't kill me, and we won't kill them. For now.' He turned to Starsky. 'You said you had some questions?'

'I do,' said Starsky. 'What is this world? Why are we here? Why do you want to escape?'

The demon cop snorted in amusement. 'Humans!' he said. 'Always wanting to know the Meaning of Life.'

 

'Why doncha take these cuffs off, before you explain it all to us?' asked Starsky.

The demon cop studied Starsky for a moment, a sardonic grin on his face. 'Boys!' he called out, at last. 'Why doncha come a little closer? Just to that first line of gravestones.'

'What are we, sheep?' asked one of the younger cops, as they obliged.

'That's a good analogy, yes,' said the demon.

'Well, I'm no sheep,' said the younger cop. He kept on walking toward the demon, when the older and wiser cops stayed where they were put. 'I thought we were going to have choir practice,' he said. 'Kill the fags. What next? You want us to such their dicks?'

'No,' said the demon. 'But if you don't shut up now, I'll make you suck mine later.'

'The fuck you will. This isn't like any decent choir practice I've ever been too. I think you're a fairy yourself.'

'Maybe I am,' said the demon. 'You want choir practice, you got it. Like magic.' There was a dull popping sound. A large hole appeared in the centre of the younger cop's forehead, and he fell dead upon the grass.

'Hey! You just shot Jamison,' Wilson cried.

'He wanted choir practice. Now he's practising with the Heavenly Choir. Anyone wanna join him?'

'Nah. We're doin' okay,' said Wilson. The others mumbled their agreement with the sentiment.

'I hate silencers,' said the demon, looking down at the Magnum in his hand. 'But this thing makes a noise to wake the dead, and considering where we are....'

'You got a point, ' said Hutch. 'But you were going to explain a few things to us. Like why you want me to open the Gate?'

'Do I? Well, I guess I do. You see, this world is a prison. A prison for demons. I just want to clear out. Can you understand that?'

'Sure,' said Hutch. 'But I'm a cop. Why should I help a prisoner escape?'

The demon cop shrugged. 'Because we're all sorta in the same boat. You. Me. Your boyfriend. We got sent here by the same people. The same demons.'

'What demons were those?' asked Starsky.

'The Demon Council. This is their prison world. They send you here if you piss them off. Hutch pissed them off by Travelling the Worlds, and killing demons everywhere he went. Then he hooked up with you, and you make a good team, if I might be permitted to say so.'

'You might,' said Starsky. 'But how did you piss them off? If you don't mind my asking?'

'Not at all, though it embarrasses me to admit it. I was too nice. There. I've said it. I feel better already.'

'We're happy for you,' said Hutch. 'But are we expected to believe it?'

'Believe it. Do you think I'd admit such a shameful thing if it weren't the truth?'

'I suppose not,' said Hutch. 'But tell me something? Was Starsky... the Starsky of this world... was he really a demon?'

'Yeah. He was a demon. Sent here as punishment for something or other. Maybe being too nice, like me? Who knows? We're doomed to appear only in mortal form. We have to live among mortals, as mortals. After a few years, we're usually cured of good behaviour, and back to our old demon selves. But your Starsky, he fell for you. Fell hard. And he was so weird about it. He wouldn't fuck you. Wouldn't let the rest of us touch you. He said something incomprehensible. That he couldn't touch you, because he was evil. That he was atoning for his sins. We all laughed. We figured he'd get over it. Then he took those bullets for you, and died. I guess he died happy.'

'I guess,' said Hutch, looking down at the grass.

'I'm sorry, Hutch,' Starsky told him. 'I'm sorry for the things I said about him.'

'No. You were right. He was a demon. But I loved him. I would have done anything for him.'

'You ruined a perfectly bad demon,' said the cop. 'But I forgive you. My good side acts up, every once in a while.'

'Oh, yeah?' asked Starsky. 'And what side of you wants to leave here? Where do you want to go? What are you going to do there?'

'There's no end to your questions, is there? I think I've suffered here long enough. I'm afraid of becoming completely evil again, and I don't want that. I'm thinking of moving on, finding a nice, quiet world, where I can live out my life in peace. As a demon, of course. That's what I am. Why should I be ashamed of it?'

'So, you have good intentions? You're not interested in starting a war, or anything?'

'A war?' asked the demon. 'Why would I want that? Wars are messy. People die. Yuck!'

'I agree,' said Starsky. 'Well, as long as you're sure you have no evil plans, we'll team up, open the Gate, and move on. Agreed?'

'Agreed,' said the demon.

They both turned and looked at Hutch. 'Why are you looking at me?' he asked.

 

'We're looking at you, because it's all up to you now, Babe,' said Starsky. 'Are you gonna open the Gate for us?' Starsky's eyes told Hutch he had complete faith that he could do it. That he could do anything, if he set his mind to it.

'I'll open the Gate,' said Hutch, with a confidence he didn't feel. He looked at the demon cop. 'First, take those handcuffs off Starsky,' he told him.

The cop shrugged. 'I'll take them off, but he better behave, or I'll shoot him. In fact, I could handcuff him to a tree, and rape him, until you agree to open the Gate for me.'

'You think I would? I'm not stupid. I'd open the Gate, and you'd shoot us both, and then make your escape.'

'You're right. I would. But this way, we all get what we want.' He unlocked Starsky's cuffs. 'Now, open the Gate,' he said.

'Sure,' said Hutch, acting confident again. 'Where is it?'

The demon cop snarled. 'You're the fucking Traveller. You tell me.'

'Don't talk to him like that,' Starsky snarled back. 'When your Demon Council sent him here, they took away his memories. Give me time, and I'll remind him.'

'We don't have much time,' said the demon. 'It's almost daylight. This place will be opening for business soon. Funeral processions, and weeping relatives bringing flowers for their loved ones. All that crap.'

'Yeah, and you have a dead cop leaking blood into the ground a few yards away. That would attract attention. Why don't you see to that, and let us do our jobs?'

The cop shrugged again. 'Might as well,' he said. 'But don't try to escape. I'll have Wilson watch you. Don't give him any trouble.'

'The only place we want to escape to, is back to our own world,' Starsky pointed out.

The cop stalked off, to drag the body of his victim into the bushes along the trail. Starsky shook his head.

'What?' asked Hutch.

'I was just wondering. Is he going to bury Jamison, or eat him? Hutch! We have to get out of here, and back to our own world.'

'If you say so, Starsky. I don't know where this place is, how to find it, or whether I'll like it when we get there.'

'Well, for one thing darling, in our world, what we did earlier tonight is called making love. Not committing sodomy. And no one will come to arrest us for it. They are all too busy with their own lives, to care what other people do with theirs, in their own homes. People here seem to have too Damn much time on their hands. Now, see this grave here?'

'Yeah. Starsky's grave.'

'That's where the Gate is. You chose this plot, didn't you? They showed you others, but you were drawn to this one.'

'How'd you know?'

'You told me that's how you found your first Gate, and opened it. Not in a graveyard, but in a park. You were drawn to one spot, and eventually, you realized why. You told me that you stared at the spot long enough, and it began to shift. The edges began to move. You said the term Gate isn't really accurate. It's more like a channel. A place where the borders between the Worlds meet, and blend.'

'None of this makes any sense,' said Hutch.

'No,' said Starsky. 'It doesn't make logical sense, according to the laws of this world. This world that you've been shaped to fit. You've been forced to see only one reality. Look into another reality. Look at the gravestone. It bears my name, but here I am, talking to you. One reality, blending into another.'

Starsky continued to talk, letting the words flow in their own time, hardly paying attention to what he was saying after the first few moments. He kept an eye on Wilson, and the other cops. They were staying well back, but Starsky could feel their hostility. The demon cop returned from his sojourn into the bushes, licking his lips and adjusting his clothes. Far off in the distance, Starsky heard sirens. Police cars. They seemed to be coming this way. The sun shot its first rays over the horizon.

Hutch was muttering something. It sounded like a foreign language. Starsky smiled. This was one of his favourite moments, he thought. It was almost as wonderful as that moment just before orgasm -- the moment before all Hell broke loose.

 

The other cops were becoming restless, Starsky noticed. Perhaps they felt the bursting of the channels between the Worlds as well? Their demon leader was smiling in a way that made Starsky glad he'd decided to kill him. Police sirens were coming closer.

Hutch continued to murmur to himself. Starsky rested one hand on Hutch's lower back. The other still held one of his knives. The demon cop was going to try to shoot them, that he knew. You might get me, thought Starsky. But not him.

'What are we waiting for?' asked one of the younger cops.

'That's my business,' said the demon. 'You'll find out, soon enough.'

Yeah, thought Starsky. We all will. I wonder why he brought you along? Not just to put pressure on Hutch. Payment, maybe? Proof to the Demon Council that you're bad, and you've brought some humans over with you? The police cars burst out of the trees, and drove straight for them. They screeched to a halt a few feet away, and several cops jumped out. Captain Dobey was one of them.

'It took me some time to track you here,' he said. 'What the Hell do you think you're doing?'

'Hell, Captain Dobey. We're doin' Hell,' said the demon, with a grin. 'Want to join us?'

'Join you? What are you talking about? You were supposed to take Detective Hutchinson and this impostor to Metro. Why are you here in the cemetery?'

'Like the demon said, Dobey. Hell,' Starsky told him. 'Stick around. You'll see.'

Hutch didn't seem to notice the new arrivals, or indeed, anything beyond the Gate he was opening. A howling wind rose. It whirled about their ankles, stirring the dead leaves at their feet. The strange music that had accompanied Starsky's journey to this world, was playing once more, louder and raised to a fever pitch.

'What's going on?' Dobey cried.

The Gate opened, full force. Hutch was out of practice, thought Starsky. There was no need to fling the channels wide open. He'd have to have a talk with Hutch, once they were back home where they belonged. No time now. Demons from his own world were pouring through the Gateway. Hutch was staring in astonishment.

'I opened it,' he said.

'Yeah. You did. Now, get a move on, Dummy,' Starsky yelled. He pushed Hutch forward. It was like trying to move a tree.

The demon cop jumped in front, and pulled out his Magnum. But he hadn't been a demon for some time. He was unprepared for the attack of a Demon Hunter, in a rage. Starsky's knife, designed to cut out the heart of a demon, slid into the cop's human flesh like a hot poker through butter. The demon coughed once and died. His Magnum fell to the ground, and Starsky picked it up. He turned on the others. Most were watching the invading demons, or the open Gate. Captain Dobey was watching Starsky, and Hutch.

'Back off!' Starsky told him. 'Or I'll shoot you. Hutch! Stay with me, here. Come on!'

Hutch started toward Starsky, and the Gate to their own world. He didn't move fast enough, however. Dobey pulled a tranquillizer dart gun from his pocket. 'Don't go any further, Hutch,' he called. 'Don't follow this demon. I won't allow you to destroy yourself like this.'

'You're insane, Dobey,' Starsky screamed. 'You think he's better off here, with cops like Wilson here. Wilson wanted to kill us both.'

'I won't let that happen. I'll protect him.'

'Sure you will. Hutch! Come on. Come with me. The Gate will close, soon.'

Hutch flung himself toward Starsky and the closing Gate. But he was too late. Dobey's dart hit him full in the back. With his last strength, Hutch pushed Starsky through the Gate, back into his own world. The Gate slammed closed, and Starsky was back in the warehouse, on the other side of the wall.

'No!' he screamed. 'Hutch!' He threw himself at the wall, in horror and terror, again and again. 'Open the Gate, Hutch. Open the Gate!'

The wall remained blank, as if the Gate had never existed. He battered himself against it, until he fell senseless to the dirty warehouse floor.

************************

'The Gate is locked, Detective,' the Traveller informed him.

'What do you mean, locked?' Starsky demanded.

'I mean, the Gate is locked. Like any ordinary locked gate or door. It cannot be opened, unless you have the right key.'

'Or a pass key?' asked Starsky.

'If there is such a thing in this particular case. There may not be,' the Traveller told him.

'There must be,' said Starsky. 'My partner is back there, locked in. God only knows what's happening to him. I must get to him.'

'Starsky, I know how you feel,' said Captain Dobey.

'No, you don't,' Starsky told him. 'You can't possible imagine what it felt like, to watch you turn traitor. Not once, but twice.'

'That wasn't me,' said Dobey.

'Prove it,' Starsky challenged. 'Help me get back to rescue Hutch.'

'I'll help,' said Dobey. 'Samhain is coming soon. Perhaps the Gate will open on its own.'

'Perhaps,' said Starsky. 'In the meantime, I'm living here. Night and day. If Hutch opens the Gate again, I'll be waiting.'

********************

The cell door slammed shut.

'This is for your own good, Hutch,' Captain Dobey told him. 'It won't be for long. I'm sure that when I explain the circumstances in court, they'll acquit you. Or give you a light sentence.'

Hutch didn't answer. He stared at the wall. He must stay calm, he thought, until he had the chance to fulfil his thwarted desire to end his own life. That chance would come soon. He could join Starsky in death. The Starsky of this world. The other Starsky -- his sweet lover of only a few days -- he must be protected. He must not call him back to this world, ever again. It was too dangerous. Eventually Starsky's pain would ease. He'd find another lover. Hutch must hold onto that belief. It was all he had left.

 

***The End***


End file.
